natural impetuosity of temperament rendered him incapable of paying laborious attention to the ordinary technical details of painting. His method of colouring was faulty to an extreme, and his colour, though often fine, was strange, gloomy, and frequently unpleasing. In many of his pictures the lividness of his flesh-tints has been enhanced by the uniform blackness to which time has reduced the shadows. Were it not for the graver of Moses Haughton [q. v.], who lodged with Fuseli at Somerset House, and worked under his personal direction, John Raphael Smith, J. P. Simon, and others, he would be little known. His numerous sketches afford a better insight into his art than his completed pictures, in which the great power of his imagination is sometimes obscured. He sometimes indulged in considerable freedom of subject, but most of these sketches were destroyed. After his death a collection of eight hundred drawings by Fuseli were purchased from his widow by Sir Thomas Lawrence, and subsequently passed into the possession of the Countess of Guilford, but are now dispersed. While endeavouring to tread in the ‘terribil via’ of Michelangelo, he followed the precepts of Lavater in expressing by attitude, gesture, or other movements of the limbs or features, the passions or emotions which he wished to delineate in his characters. The artist most akin to him was William Blake, who engraved some of his drawings; Blake owed a great deal to the friendship of Fuseli, and both entertained a mutual esteem and affection for each other, with undoubted advantage on both sides. Among the pictures painted by Fuseli, in addition to his ‘Milton’ and ‘Shakespeare’ productions, were ‘Perceval delivering Belisane from the enchantment of Urma,’ ‘Œdipus and his daughters’ (now in the Walker Art Gallery at Liverpool), ‘Paolo and Francesca de Rimini,’ ‘Ugolino in the Torre della Fame,’ ‘Dion seeing a Female Spectre overturn his Altars and sweep his Hall,’ ‘Psyche pursued by the Fates’ (at Wroxton Abbey), ‘Queen Mab’ (in the possession of the Earl of Harrowby), ‘Ariadne, Theseus, and the Minotaur,’ ‘William Tell leaping ashore’ (notorious for its exaggerated limbs), ‘Caractacus at Rome,’ ‘The Spirit of Plato appearing to a Student,’ ‘Cæsar's Ghost appearing to Brutus,’ ‘Hercules attacking Pluto,’ ‘Christ and his disciples at Emmaus’ (now in the possession of Lord North at Kirtling Tower, Newmarket), scenes from the Nibelungenlied, &c. Most of these were exhibited at the Royal Academy, to which he contributed sixty-nine pictures in all; many have perished from natural decay or unmerited neglect. He published a few etchings, notably one of ‘Fortune,’ of which the original drawing is in the British Museum, and experimented in lithography. He provided numerous illustrations to the small editions of the poets and classics, Bell's ‘Theatre,’ and other similar works then in vogue. The title of ‘Principal Hobgoblin-Painter to the Devil,’ humorously conferred on him, was neither undeserved nor resented by him.
As a teacher Fuseli was popular among his pupils, in spite of his eccentricities; he was also successful in his method, which seems to have consisted in inspiring his pupils with the desire to learn, rather than in giving them actual technical instruction, according to a favourite precept of his, that time and not the teacher makes an artist. Haydon, in whom Fuseli took great interest, Leslie, Etty, Mulready, and others have testified to his beneficial influence (see Builder, 1864, p. 4, for a similar tribute from a lady pupil). As an author Fuseli has hardly been esteemed as much as he deserves; he was a large contributor to the periodical literature of his day, especially to the ‘Analytical Review;’ he made numerous translations of works for Johnson and other publishers, and later in life few works on art of any importance were issued without a preliminary ‘imprimatur’ from Fuseli's pen, e.g. Blake's illustrations to Blair's ‘Grave.’ He revised Dr. Hunter's translation of Lavater's ‘Physiognomy;’ greatly assisted Cowper in his translation of Homer's ‘Iliad;’ and himself translated Lavater's ‘Aphorisms on Man.’ He also made a collection of ‘Aphorisms on Art’ of his own composition, which were published after his death, and are worth perusing. His lectures, especially the first three, which were published separately in 1801, show a wealth of learning and erudition unusual in an artist. His style, though often grandiose to absurdity, was in the fashion of the time. He indulged the family passion for lexicography by editing and re-editing Pilkington's ‘Dictionary of Painters,’ and by assisting his cousin in completing his uncle Rudolf's ‘Allgemeines Künstler-Lexicon.’ His devotion to the family science of entomology lasted through life, and is often evident in his pictures. Fuseli became one of the leading figures in London society, and was esteemed as much for his literary as for his artistic powers; he was an indispensable guest at Johnson the publisher's dinner-table, the resort of the leading radical celebrities of the day, and the circle was not complete without Fuseli's caustic wit and brilliant epigram. He was fearless in avowing his opinions, and when Johnson was imprisoned by the government for alleged sedition, he continued to visit him in prison as before. He made few enemies, and his freedom of speech and criti-
